


Don't Lose Your Head

by foobles



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Trials of Apollo - Rick Riordan
Genre: im honoured, the first ever triumvirate holdings fanfic??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-20
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:28:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22818502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foobles/pseuds/foobles
Summary: Commodus is blind and turns to his fellow emperors for help
Comments: 8
Kudos: 22





	Don't Lose Your Head

“ _Salweh?”_

“Nero!” Commodus shouted. He turned and spat some more blood from his mouth onto the floor of pine needles below.

“ _Commodus? What on earth are you calling me for?”_ Nero asked, his voice laced with annoyance.

“Nero… It was Apollo. He blinded me. Chased me out! He still had some… some godly essence left! I… can’t see…” Commodus said, his voice shaking. In the few hours since he had scrambled out of Indianapolis, his vision had not returned. The world was still bright white, completely featureless. He could hear the crunch of the earth beneath him, and the sound of the wind, and the smell of blood in his nose, but he couldn’t see. HE COULDN’T SEE!

Silence came from the other end of the line. “Nero, you have to help me. Get me to New York. I need a healer, nectar, ambrosia, anything!” He shouted, his voice hoarse.

_“…No, I don’t think I will.”_ Nero said. Commodus’ blood ran cold.

“What do you mean _no_?”

_“I mean no. Really, you always were the weakest of the three of us,”_ Nero mused. _“This blunder of yours just proves we were right about you. You can forget getting any help from me.”_ Commodus sputtered into the phone, trying to find the right words; ‘I won’t fail you again’, ‘I’ll get him next time!’ But before Commodus could say anything else, the phone went dead.

Commodus screamed into the void, slamming his fist onto the ground as hard as he could.

Apollo! This was all his fault. His stupid mortal face was seared into Commodus’ mind. How could he have done this? How could Commodus, the New Hercules, be defeated by a mortal? And now, one of his own partners had rejected him. _You always were the weakest of the three of us_. The words rang through Commodus’ head and for the first time since he had woken up floating in the Thames in 1700, Commodus cried. He could feel the tears rolling down his face and he angrily swatted at them, shouting curses that hadn’t been heard since the glory days of Rome.

Apollo, beautiful Phoebus Apollo; stinking, _mortal_ Apollo, had blinded him. Hadn’t they been in love once? Commodus’ throat tightened at the thought of his former lover. Commodus hated to admit it, but his heart still hurt when he thought of the former god. He had tried to forget him, then he had tried to channel his anger over Apollo into his ambitions. Nothing helped. Nothing _would_ help but revenge, getting rid of Apollo once and for all!

Commodus pulled his phone up to his mouth. “Siri, call N.H. Financials,” He croaked. Siri responded and the phone rung. Commodus tried to steel himself, clearing his throat so he wouldn’t sound so pathetic in front of his most feared colleague. The phone kept ringing and Commodus’ stomach kept turning.

The phone then stopped ringing. “ _Ave Commodus!”_

“Gaius!” Commodus choked. He cursed himself for the break in his voice. Commodus heard Caligula give a small sigh on the other end of the line, as if he knew where the conversation was going.

_“What’s wrong?”_ He asked, his tone bordering on sing-song-y.

“Apollo. He blinded me. I… I can’t see, and I’m stuck out in the country. I had to flee Indianapolis. The cave is… gone…” Commodus admitted.

_“Blinded you?”_ He asked. The playfulness in his voice was gone now.

“He had some power left. I just… Nero won’t help me,” Commodus said, his voice dropping to a pathetic whimper. He felt humiliated, worthless! Apollo had stripped him of everything he thought he had.

_“Oh, you poor thing,”_ Caligula said, his voice suddenly full of comforting pity. Commodus knew better than to fall for it. He was probably enjoying Commodus’ shame. _“Turn on your tracking device and I’ll send a helicopter. You do remember how to use it don’t you?”_ He asked.

And thus ended the conversation. Commodus turned on the tracking device, a precaution Caligula had essentially enforced on the other two members of the Triumvirate for emergencies. Nero had thought it was stupid, but he would never say that to his uncle’s face. Nero was more afraid of Caligula than Commodus was.

Caligula had been the first one to suggest the Triumvirate. Commodus remembered 1800’s London, during the height of the Industrial Revolution, as they had sat inside the Crystal Palace one evening and made their plans. It had been a dress-up party for the wealthy, and all of the emperors had been there. Commodus had arrived as Hercules, naturally. Nero had come in simple senator’s robes, and Caligula had come as Apollo, painted completely gold and wrapped only in a bright white toga (‘ _to protect the queen’s sensibilities’_ he had said).

That had been the first time either Nero or Commodus had seen him in the modern era, and that was where he had suggested Triumvirate Holdings. Each of them had already amassed their own wealth, and combined, they could start their slow conquest of the world.

Nero didn’t want to join the Triumvirate at first. When he had seen his uncle appear through the crowd of elaborately dressed royals, sun crown on his head, Nero had been petrified. If Commodus didn’t know any better, he’d say that Nero only joined the Triumvirate out of fear for his estranged family member.

That didn’t matter now though. Nero had rejected Commodus. He had just started breaking the Triumvirate.

Commodus had fallen asleep on the helicopter ride over, his mind replaying the events of the Waystation in his head. Apollo’s ugly mortal face, framed by that long brown hair, was the only thing Commodus could picture in his head as they arrived in California.

The helicopter had landed on one of the many ships Caligula used as his headquarters. Commodus almost threw up as he got used to the rocking of the ship beneath him. He had never liked boats, and not being able to see one’s surroundings made the sway of the vessel sickening under his feet.

Commodus was led up a ramp (thank the gods for Incitatus) and into a cool room. The swaying of the ship was less noticeable in here. “Stay here. Caesar will come see you shortly,” the voice of a young woman commanded. Commodus thought that it must have been one of Gaius’ demi-god stepchildren.

He put up no resistance. Where could he go anyway? He was blind! Commodus wasn’t sure how much time had passed as he waited. No vision meant no watches, which meant no concept of time. He would occasionally hear someone pass by on the deck above, and the occasional grunt of a few monsters below. Commodus was starting to doze off, when he heard a heavy metal clanging sound, and the ship rocked ever so slightly. A minute or so later, the door to the room swung open. Commodus said nothing as the person walked over, the heels of their shoes tapping against the wood floor.

“Oh Commodus, what has that wretched little thing done to you?” It was Caligula.

Commodus felt suddenly stupid for not recognizing his presence. Caligula brought a tension to every room he entered, heavy as ozone before a storm. Commodus tried to sit himself up. He probably looked like a pouting child, sitting slouched over with his arms crossed. He felt the couch dip slightly as Caligula took a seat next to Commodus.

Commodus froze up as he felt Caligula take his face in his hands, forcing Commodus to face him. He tried not to squirm as Caligula ran his fingers over the new scars around his eyes, tutting in disappointment. He could almost picture Caligula’s face, narrow and handsome with a light frown on his brow.

“That Apollo… for a god of healing he can be _awfully_ violent, can’t he?” Caligula mused, brushing Commodus’ hair away from his face. Commodus nodded silently as Caligula turned away from him, removing a hand from his cheek. Commodus heard the snap of Caligula’s fingers as he ordered someone, probably a guard, to go and fetch…

“Who’s the sorceress?” Commodus asked quietly.

“You met her at the meeting in June, Commodus,” Caligula said slowly. “Remember? Medea?” Commodus nodded. He had met her. She had been a tall, luxurious women, maybe forty-years old. Commodus had only ever known her from the story of Jason and the Argonauts, and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little bit intimidated by her.

“She’ll probably have some sort of cure for your eyes, don’t worry,” Caligula said soothingly, running a finger under Commodus’ right eye. “Medea may practice dark magic, but she makes an excellent doctor when needed. You’ll be able to gaze at your gorgeous reflection again in no time!”

“Thanks… I just. I didn’t expect Nero to reject me like that,” Commodus said.

“Of course. That stupid little boy does _not_ understand how alliances work, does he?” Caligula said, adjusting himself so he could run his hand through Commodus’ scruffy hair. Commodus nodded, relaxing for the first time in hours as Caligula worked through the knots in his mane of hair.

“I don’t understand how Apollo did it. I thought he was powerless! But one minute he was standing there, telling me… ah, I don’t know what he was saying. Something dumb like my father used to say. And then I just… I couldn’t see anymore. He became pure light Gaius!” Commodus exclaimed. He sighed, leaning back against the couch. “I should have expected him to still have powers… but he looked so…” Commodus struggled to find the words.

“Pathetic?” Caligula offered.

“Yeah! Pathetic!” Commodus said, snapping his fingers.

“Pathetic, like you look now?” Commodus froze up instantly as he felt Caligula’s grip tighten on his hair. His breathing quickened. Oh shit. Oh _shit_. Nero had outright told Commodus he had failed. Commodus hadn’t been thinking straight when he called Caligula for help. Caligula was also a member of the Triumvirate. And Commodus had walked straight into his arms for help.

“Gaius—”

“Your headquarters in shambles, the Waystation still active, and the Oracle of Trophinius gone? And look at you… _you’re a mess_ ,” Caligula purred, twisting and pulling Commodus’ hair painfully in his hand. Commodus’ gasped in pain but said nothing. “How do you intend to make up for your mistakes, _amica mea_? You have nothing left to offer.” He said.

This. This is was what made Caligula dangerous. Nero was just a cruel bastard, and Commodus was blatant about his love of violence and power. But Caligula was like a poisoned glass of wine. He disarmed you with sweet smiles and gentle touches, and then slammed the trap shut when it was too late.

Commodus tried not to shake as he came up with a reply. “I… I can’t. All I can do…” He paused, trying to think of something that wouldn’t get himself killed. Caligula was infamously sadistic. If Commodus made any literal suggestions, like dying for Caligula, then the Mad Emperor would expect him to keep to that offer. “All I can do is offer myself to your services to help defeat Apollo and his allies here. With you.” Commodus said.

A long, long moment of silence followed. He held his breath in anticipation. Commodus almost cried in relief as Caligula loosened his grip on Commodus’ hair and leant back. “And when I defeat Apollo? And take my place as the New Sun? Will you still offer your services then?” He asked.

“Y—yeah!” Commodus said.

“Even against Nero?” Caligula asked. That gave Commodus pause. Against Nero? Oh, of course… once Apollo was gone and the camps were crushed, they would have to divide up the world amongst themselves. Caligula and Nero, who naturally distrusted each other, would never let the other have anything. So that meant that whoever Commodus sided with was the victor.

Commodus thought for a moment. Nero hadn’t helped him when he had asked. Caligula had, even if he had threatened Commodus just two seconds ago. Commodus blindly reached out and managed to place a hand on Caligula’s shoulder. “Yes. Nero didn’t help me. You did. I promise it will be worth it,” Commodus said. Commodus felt the tension in the room lift, and he could sense the smile on Caligula’s face.

The door to the room opened again and a new presence, and an even louder set of shoes clicked across the floor. “I heard Commodus was here, but I did not expect our New Hercules to look so… sad,” Medea said. Commodus frowned in her general direction. “Whoa, okay big guy!” She laughed.

“Oh Medea, would you take a look at his eyes. Apollo used what was left of his divine light to blind our friend here,” Caligula said, standing to make room for the sorceress. She sat down next to Commodus and grabbed his face, not nearly as gently as Caligula had. She tutted and said something in a strange language, probably Colchian.

“I can’t cure them instantly. Divine light blindness isn’t something that can be reversed so simply,” She said.

“Well what can you do?” Commodus snapped.

“Don’t be rude,” Medea chided. Commodus could hear her rummaging through a bag of glass bottle. “There’s a course of treatment that lasts about a month that can mostly restore your sight, but it is painful.” She warned. Commodus had no warning as Medea tilted his head back and squeezed something into his eyes. Commodus may or may have not screamed like a little girl from the pain. He stood and stumbled away from the sorceress, swearing and shouting in several different languages.

“Well, that is quite the reaction!” Caligula said. Medea gave a short laugh.

“It’s a concoction with belladonna and Styx water as the main components. He’ll be desensitized eventually,” Medea said.

“ _Styx water?”_ Commodus shouted.

“Really? I never would have thought Styx water could help the eyes…”

“Well it is incredibly diluted, so it isn’t nearly as potent as the real stuff. It’s about… one thousand times weaker than pure Styx water, but still retains the healing effects of the undiluted version.”

“Couldn’t it be stronger than for a more potent effect? Or would anything more kill him?”

“Oh, anything stronger would _definitely_ kill him.”

“HELLO?” Commodus roared. “IT FEELS LIKE SOMEONE HAS POURED ACID IN MY EYES! CAN SOMEONE HELP ME?”

“No, my dear,” Medea said, placing her hands on his arms, pulling his hands down from his face. “The potion cannot be washed out or else it will never heal your eyes.” She explained.

“Let Medea work her magic Commodus. You’ll be cured in no time. She managed to treat my insomnia; how bad can she be?” Caligula said. Commodus sighed and slumped down to the floor. His eyes hurt more than when he had been blinded. Commodus sighed as he heard Medea leave the room, leaving him alone with Caligula.

The entire situation was messed up. Commodus had lost a vital oracle, Nero had essentially disowned him, he had disowned Nero to side with Caligula, and Caligula had essentially told Commodus that he intended to turn on Nero the moment Apollo and the demi-gods were defeated. Triumvirates always end in civil war…

“Commodus. Whose fault is this?” Caligula asked.

“What?” Commodus said, taken aback. He heard Caligula take a few steps towards him.

“Whose fault is this? Who is to blame for your eyes? For the oracle?” He asked. Commodus slumped his shoulders, feeling his throat tighten in shame.

“Mine…”

“Yes _amica_ ,” Caligula said, placing a hand on top of Commodus’ head. “But it’s also Apollo. He did this to you. Don’t you want him to suffer for your mistakes?” He asked. Commodus sat in place for a second before answering.

“Yes.” He growled, rising to his feet.

Caligula placed a hand on Commodus’ shoulder an began to guide him towards the door. “Then let’s go,” Commodus couldn’t see the cyanide sweet smile on Caligula’s face as he was led out of the room. But Commodus’ wouldn’t have noticed, even if he had his sight.

Now all that mattered to him was getting revenge on Apollo.


End file.
